


The Gifting

by anuran



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Gen, Hanukkah, The Good People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28418580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anuran/pseuds/anuran
Summary: This Knight absolutely cannot get a rest, apparently. Not even in short stories.Based on a weird throwaway line in "The Good People," a microfiction on the Dresden Files website. However, this takes place earlier than that story. This is short and was written very quickly.Some fight aftermath.
Kudos: 9





	The Gifting

Waldo sagged against the wall, his muscles aching. The ribbon (ribbon!?) binding him stubbornly refused to be wriggled out of. At least he still could see. His glasses were whole even if the apartment had been completely wrecked.

"Well fought." The creature nodded seriously.

 _Spit in its eye_ , an inner voice whispered urgently. His whole body was begging him to fight or flee, but fleeing was out and fighting had been tried. There were just too many of them and all of them had the speed and strength of seriously dedicated ninjas. 

Think. He'd seen that sort of tree root face, where? Halloween, wasn't it? And weren't some of those faces in the crowd around Santa Claus/ Odin? They were memorable faces, more scar tissue than flesh with wide, lipless mouths. Most of them were grinning and the teeth were not reassuring. The one who seemed to be leading them bent down, speaking quietly:

"We will never interfere with the lamps of mortals again. This is a promise." 

_Again?_

"You beat back the elder ones, the Formori. You've won the respect of some of us in the darkness and also, this."

Something clattered to the ground, muffled a bit by wrapping paper. Suddenly Butters knew. He also knew that Andi and Marci were perfectly safe and the knowledge made him throw his head back and laugh with relief. "Than- this is great. You really don't have to. You _really_ don't have to."

The shortest, stringiest member of the group, the one Waldo had sliced up with a broken bit of a picture frame chuckled and bowed. "The fight is a token of our respect as well, Sir Knight of Chicago." 

_Wait, did "great" count as verbal agreement?_ He could say it was inappropriate- beyond inappropriate- for them to give him gifts today if they were who they just implied they were. He could say that, ultimately _dammit, he didn't want their gifts._

**"HEY- !"**

But the warrior fae were already out the door, out of sight, moving swiftly as shadows. Somehow a single whisper drifted back to him: 

_"See you tomorrow."_


End file.
